Vero Beach comes of age

Some of Florida's oldest skeletal remains, those of a man dating back almost 12,000 years, were discovered in 1915 in the East Coast community of Vero Beach.

That didn't surprise me when, as a sullen teenager almost 70 years later, I read about the artifact. "Vero Man," I reasoned, would have fit right in among the other senior citizens at the early-bird restaurant dinners to which my grandparents took me.

Those were the days when the relative isolation of Vero Beach, Sebastian and other Treasure Coast enclaves was both a blessing and a curse. They hadn't been "discovered" by the hordes, so they remained largely unspoiled.

Now, Vero Beach has been "discovered." But either by luck or design, the city and its environs have managed to preserve some of their most bucolic offerings while blending enough cultural and recreational activities to entertain visitors of all ages.

Once home to just one small movie theater, it now boasts one of the most modern multiplex theaters in the state. And the shopping and cultural offerings, once spotty, are now abundant.

And the beaches? Pure bliss, as you'd expect in an area where the average daily high temperature lingers around 72 in mid-winter and around 90 in summer.

A spurt of development, particularly in the past decade, has helped the city start shedding its "Zero Beach" image and attract a broader base of tourists who seek something more than surf and sand.

Vero Beach is in the middle of Indian River County. Dodgertown and its Holman Stadium, the spring training home of the Los Angeles Dodgers, sit about midway between Vero's beaches and its exit off I-95. Although its golf course recently closed, its friendly ballpark is reason enough for baseball fans to make the trip.

To the casual observer, the "treasure" of the Treasure Coast might seem to refer to its stretch of beaches -- a jewel, no doubt, but not what excited its earliest visitors or inspired its nickname.

A flota of 11 Spanish ships sank off the coast during a 1715 hurricane, their bounty of gems and coins scattering beneath the waves. Some of the loot has never been recovered, including a ship containing 13 chests of fine jewelry for King Philip V's fiancee.

The famed treasure hunter Mel Fisher displays some of the recovered booty in his eponymous Treasure Museum in Sebastian, while the nearby McLarty Museum in Sebastian Inlet State Park commemorates surviving Spanish sailors who camped nearby.

Today's adventurers can scuba dive to one of the ships, the Urca de Lima, one of Florida's underwater state parks, off the coast of Pepper Park in nearby Fort Pierce. Alas, the ship's cargo of chocolate, sassafras, incense, cowhides, silver and exotic products is long gone.

Like other Florida destinations, the Treasure Coast peaks in popularity and crowds between Thanksgiving and Easter. Savvy travelers can find bargains if they book hotels just before and after the snowbird season.

Golf courses are plentiful throughout the region, and other outdoor recreational areas such as tennis courts and waterfront parks are spread throughout the coast.

A few of my other favorite spots: the Riverside Theatre and the Center for the Arts; McKee Botanical Gardens, so beautiful they will knock you silly; and the citrus groves, where chatty owners squeeze juice to order, letting you sample slices of honeybell tangelos, ruby red grapefruit and tropical marmalades.

And then there are the "fish camps." Grab a beer or soda, find your place on an airboat or canoe, and prepare for a trip through murky rivers where wary alligators, huge flies and fat frogs live uncomplicated, primal lives.

If you're seeking the polar opposite of Florida's inland swamps, the cozy enclave of Sebastian is a nice stopping point. Its modest downtown, just north of Vero Beach, offers cafes and artsy shopping while its nearby inlet is a hot spot for snook, redfish and other catches.

It's not far from Disney's Vero Beach Resort, a family-oriented beachfront resort that's one of several kinds of lodging available in the region. Hotels range from modest $49-per-night chains, often several miles inland, near the highway, to exclusive waterfront lodgings. A personal favorite, the Driftwood Resort, a 68-year-old historic inn, has a rustic ambience and peak-season rates that range from $99 to $275 nightly.

The area's "regulars" know to visit around the third week in January, driving west for about 20 minutes on Route 60 out to historic Fellsmere. This rustic town, whose economy is based on citrus and cattle, swells with visitors for its annual Frog Leg Festival.

A little farther west, across the Indian River/Osceola County border, you can catch Florida's Turnpike in the tiny four-corners burg of Yeehaw Junction. While you're there, grab some gator tail, turtle chunks and hush puppies at the Desert Inn & Restaurant, which holds a spot on the National Register of Historic Places.

Floridians weather the heat and humidity of our brutal summers by fleeing to the state’s wealth of cool, clear, refreshing springs, which spill thousands of gallons of water out of the ground every minute.